The Lone Wanderer (and co): Dimensional and Temporal Shenanigans
by Centralmetric01
Summary: A failure from one of Lesko's experiments to rid the fire ants has gone awry. Can the Lone Wanderer fix this mess as he wanders through a different dimension?
1. Strange Beginnings

"Hey you, you're finally awake."

A man yawned and replied "I told you mom, I wanted to sleep in today."

Laughter ensued, "Lad, are you quite sure you're still in a soft bed?" A gruff voice asked.

Groaning, the man shifted into sitting position. Why am I so tired? And I feel hungry. "Hey, are you sure you're completely up yet? You look as if you've been hunting rest, and it caught you first." The man opened his eyes. "Alright, who has the fake wall?" The blond gruff man raised an eyebrow; the man sitting beside him remarked "If you're saying this is fake, then I suggest you try to move your hands." Huh? What does that have to- Hey, something doesn't feel right. Pranks don't scratch your hands and keep them restrained. Also, prankers don't wear full, very realistic looking armour. As the man pondered for a possible explanation, he suddenly fell back as the cart hit a rock. Wait, something feels wrong. The man took a wide sweep of the area, he was in a woodland, on a well-worn road, in a rickety wooden cart, bound, with three other men, bound as well. There was also a man who was at the front, leading the horse further up the road.

"I have a feeling that we are not in a good situation." The blond man grimaced. "Well, considering the fact that you're on a cart occupied by a rebel and his leader, and that thief over there, we aren't." The grimy-faced thief grumbled "If you Stormcloaks weren't rebelling, I could have stolen that horse and have been halfway to Hammerfell by now. Damn Stormcloaks." As he spoke the man facing him narrowed his eyes. "What's up with him?" He said as soon as he realized they were narrowed at him. "Watch your words! This is Ulfric Stormcloak you're talking to!" The thief, widening his eyes, said with a tone worthy of fear "THIS is Ulfric Stormcloak? The leader of the rebellion? But if they have him, oh gods, where are they taking us!" "I don't know, but Sovngarde awaits." What the heck is going on?! These two are nuts!

Just as I was about to remark that, I heard a gate opening, " Oh great! General Tullius and his damned elves are here! Funny, when I was a lad, Imperial walls and towers made me feel so safe." The blond man muttered, just loud enough for General Tullius to hear. He didn't look happy. Then I heard the cart screech to a stop nearby a wall that was hosting some more carts with their gloomy looking riders. I was too busy examining this when I heard the blond man say "Well this is it folks, end of the line."

I was jolted back to reality. I looked around and sighed. This place sucked. I didn't want to die like a criminal. Oh well. While we were getting of the cart, the thief exclaimed "No! Wait, we're not Stormcloaks!" The blond man sighed " Face your death with courage, thief." While this was happening, I noticed a young man with chestnut brown hair talking with a lady in what I supposed to be an officer's armour. The man seemed to be holding a scroll. "The Empire love their damned lists" muttered the blond man. "Ralof of Riverwood!" "Well, nice knowing you." said the blond man as he proceeded to the area in front of what seemed to be an executioner.

"Lokir of Rorikstead!" "No wait! You can't do this to me!" said the thief as he went running away from the soldiers. "I'm getting out of here!" "Archers!" said the officer. Almost instantly, an arrow proceeded to travel through a certain thief's neck. I shuddered, there was definitely a glint in the officer's eye that said she was enjoying this.

"Hey you!" The soldier said while his writing hand was over a blank space. "Who are you?" To my astonishment, I could not answer the question. "I..uhm..uh. I don't know." The officer rolled her eyes. "State your name prisoner!" "I really can't tell you that!" I scanned the environment. I needed something to distract them long enough for me to escape. "What do we do captain? He's not on the list." "Forget the list! He goes to the block." Pushing me carelessly she said "Move it prisoner!"

Then some strange noise happened. "What was that?" The (clearly impatient) officer said "It's nothing. Carry on."

And then the execution began. A woman wearing yellow robes was standing next to the executioner. Probably a priestess of some sort. As I was observing this, a heavily armoured man walked to Ulfric. He then droned on about something called the Empire and how cutting of his head would restore the peace.

The priestess then raised her hands to the air and started saying "As we commend your souls to Aetherius-" "For the love of Talos, can we just get this over with." The now irritated priestess regarded the man who interrupted her. "Very well than." The officer than stepped toward him and pushed him onto the block. "Come on, I don't have all morning. My ancestors look down at me, can you say the same Imperial?" The headsman then chopped his head off. And for some strange reason, I didn't feel like throwing up.

"You! The one in rags! Come here!" I felt a bolt of fear strike my soul as I realized she was staring in my general direction.

And then the same strange noise sounded again.

"It's that noise again." said a soldier nearby, I wasn't sure who because I was scanning the sky for any sign of life. "I said next prisoner!" Can't that lady keep her mouth shut whenever there was a threat nearby? Seeing as I had no choice, I moved to the block. The officer seemed to push me down a bit harder than she pushed the other soldier, which seemed to me her way of disliking people who were about to die. I watched as the headsman slowly lifted his axe, and then just as he was about to bring it down onto my neck, a myth appeared.

"Dragon!" "Move back!" "Kill it!" Were only some of the assortment of shouts I heard as a black dragon swooped onto one of the towers. As I struggled to get back up, I noticed that the town was practically destroyed. As I struggled to get back up, I saw Ralof rushing into one of the nearby towers. So, I did the obvious thing and rushed in as well. Inside were Ulfric Stormcloak and a couple of his soldiers. Instead of listening to their conversation, I rushed up the stairs, only to be surprised by the dragon yet again. We both looked each other in the eye, and it suddenly decided to have me for a roasted snack.

I ducked out of the way of the fire. As I recovered, I saw Ralof climbing up the stairs to meet me. "Hurry! Jump to that roof and meet me on the other side." "Are you sure I can survive the fall?" "Well, only one way to find out." I backed away from the wall, and tensed myself. If I died, I would haunt Ralof for the rest of his life. So I jumped.

* * *

The pain was bearable. I didn't believe that I was alive though until I felt the heat from one of the dragon's fire breath attacks. I looked around. This place is a mess! Of course, their excuse is having a bloodthirsty dragon screaming for their I dwelt on that thought, I ran downstairs and out of the building in time for a part of the roof to collapse onto itself.

As I ran forward, not looking at the archers or soldiers, I saw the boy who wanted to watch the execution trembling in fear in front of the dragon. His unlucky parent that was lying in a pool of blood didn't help the matter either. "Over here kid!" I yelled. Fortunately, the kid managed to flee into the safety of the man who was reading the list. "Torolf, protect the boy." Said he. Then as he spun around, he spotted me trying to stealthily walk past him. A voice from behind me confirmed my suspicions. "Still alive prisoner? Stay near me if you want to stay that way."

Then hurry up!" Hadvar made a face, but he shrugged it off and started taking after me.

From what I could recall, Tullius and his men were busy trying to keep some manner of order up. He managed to spot me. Fortunately, he seemed a bit preoccupied by the dragon that was circling around him.

I ran past a stone arch into a clearing. Panting, I looked around and saw Ralof up ahead. Unfortunately for me, Hadvar started arguing with him.

" We're escaping Hadvar! And you will not do anything about it!"

"Just hope we don't meet again Ralof!"

After their brief verbal skirmish, through some stroke of luck, the dragon decided that I would make a great snack. I noticed something off, and saw that the dragon was landing in front of me. The intent in his eyes was enough to tell me he wasn't planning for an intellectual conversation.

So I did what any normal person would have done.

I ran towards the nearest door while letting loose a bunch of colorful swears. Ralof managed to open the door I chose and we bundled in inside.


	2. Precious Memories

Ralof immediately surveyed the room we were in.

"Nothing, damnit."

I then looked behind me. The door seemed a bit… scorched, but it would hold. Ralof then managed to spot a dead body.

"He was an honourable warrior. May you rest in peace." Ralof muttered.

I was only half-listening. I was busy waiting for him to cut my bonds.

"Uh hey, Ralof, do you mind cutting these off? Preferably today please?"

Ralof awoke from his stupor, clearly annoyed, but he complied.

I felt my wrists, which were sore from being in rough ropes. "Great, now can we go?"

Ralof narrowed his eyes. "You should be careful with that sloppy mouth you've got there. Most people with talkative tendencies usually find themselves silenced. Especially those who don't have respect for their elders."

Then suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Ralof's eyes opened. "By the Divines! What kind of necromancy is this!?" I whirled around and my jaw dropped.

The corpse moved. It just stood up and calmly tapped me on the shoulder.

"Wha-!?" Was the only thing I managed to get out of my throat before the corpse started speaking.

"Maybe this should help you."

He touched my forehead. Then pain overcame me. I saw visions in my head as well as the regular stars of a dazed person.

I saw several things. I saw an impenetrable fort, impenetrable in both ways. I saw strange long sticks with an affinity for death. I saw a gigantic ant, breathing fire, while a man in some lab coats watched me. I saw a barren wasteland, void of life. A wasteland that I was familiar with.

The Capital Wasteland.

I saw myself, holding one of the sticks to the forehead of a man begging for his life. I saw myself burying the remains of my friends. I saw myself standing on top of a pile of corpses. Finally, I saw myself coldly order my "friend" to fix a giant machine in what looked like an underground rotunda. I remember everything.

My name is Travis. The Scourge of Humanity.

* * *

I quickly recovered from my stupor. I looked in front of me to find that the corpse was still standing.

"Alright, it seems as if you succeeded recovering your memories, and of course, your charming personality people can't seem to live without."

I narrowed my eyes. I only knew a few people with attitudes like this back in the wasteland. But I only knew one person who could not start off with amazement at a strange sight. Dr. Lesko.

"Alright Antsy, I'm giving you one chance to zap me back to the Wasteland. If you don't bring me back, I _will _bring myself back just so that I can kick that sorry butt of yours!"

"Lesko" raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm. That's strange. You usually cuss at every chance you get. Maybe the Brotherhood finally broke some manners into you."

Not wasting a second, I rushed forward and grabbed "Lesko" by the throat. "Get. Me. Out. Of. Here!"

Ralof just snapped his gaze left and right like a confused animal while we were talking. "For the love of Talos! Can you two be more quiet! Imperials are bound to be nearby!"

As if on cue, the metal grate slid upwards to allow the entrance of two Imperials.

"Escaped prisoners! Cut them dow-"

Before the Imperial finished speaking, I surged forth and cracked my fist at the base of his neck. I looked to see that the other was wearing a shocked expression.

I quickly rammed my fist into the uncovered part of the soldier. She fell back and landed on her back. As she was about to get back on her feet, I grabbed the sword of the fallen soldier and positioned it right in front of her throat.

She looked up with begging eyes. I recognized the ruthless officer's features.

"Please spa-"

"You really think I'm going to spare you? You would not have done the same if I were in your place! You were probably gonna dance on my grave as soon as they lopped my head off."

I leaned in closer.

"See ya in hell moron."

I slit the neck. For good measure, I spat on the corpse. _Now where were we? Oh yeah_. I quickly turned around to see an amused corpse and an indifferent Ralof.

" So Doc, how are you even here occupying the body of a corpse? How did I even get here in the first place?

Lesko absent-mindedly tapped "his" feet. "I think you remember me telling you that if we could not simply just destroy the ants, we might find a way to teleport them to another dimension."

I paused. I scanned my memories and found out that he was right. The ants had been gaining intelligence and sentience. With their newfound mental traits, they assaulted the town of Megaton. They failed, but they were pretty close to their goal.

Noticing his inquisitive stare, Lesko grinned " You can stop looking like one of those Brotherhood scribes now." I quickly snapped out of my trance.

"As for the entire corpse thing, I found it was easier to manipulate the physical surroundings here. That allows me limited control over this body. As for the memories, I had to take them because you would have gone berserk and just rammed everybody. They _can_ take you down. I don't want to hire another assistant just because the one I had lacked some self-control." An uneasy silence awoke in between them.

"And did you see this place? People would kill to see this." I noticed his point. Everything I saw here didn't seem to be irradiated. People probably would have already been covering the floor if he didn't have his memories. A couple years in the Wasteland had an effect on people.

People in the Wasteland tended to take the good stuff and kill anybody who is blocking your way. Spending your life in a harsh, mockery of civilization does that to people. All the purity here would get into people's heads.

"Anyways, there is a way for me to bring some inorganic forms here from the Wasteland. I figured you would hate to part with your weapons and Tesla Armour."

My heart rate increased as I watched the corpse fall to the ground, dead again. I was about to curse the egotistic scientist when I heard a small _clink_. I looked downwards and saw I accidentally kicked a box of .32 calibre rounds. I looked at my wrist, and sure enough, my trusty Pipboy was attached to it.

It felt like my birthday again.

_Better start packing_, I thought to myself. The entire floor was covered with my weapons and supplies. I saw Ralof in a corner, holding his axe aggressively. I looked at where he was looking at , and then I saw that he was warily watching my Tesla Armour as it crackled with electricity.

As I began collecting my stuff, a thought entered my head. _This is going to be a long day.  
_

* * *

**A/N**

**Hey guys! Its me, the author. Sorry about the entire not updating everyday. Its just that school is getting on my nerves. Expect a longer chapter by the time I update. Oh yeah! Co-author is needed for times like this, so I'm looking for one. Also, I'm currently accepting Ocs. No DB ones though.**

**Remember, R&R.  
Your author,  
Master of SGR**


	3. Stimpak Stuff

"Found it!" I whipped my head to find that Ralof was holding a key looted from one of the corpses.

I took the key from him and started to jog to the door.

*_click _Good.

A roar sounded from far off. Looks like the dragon is still having his play date with some soldiers. I fingered my plasma rifle. It was an old model, given by some guy named Harkness. Too bad that he 'retired' due to the help of some random guy in the basement saying he was from some group called the Commonwealth.

I probably could take care of the dragon outside with this, but I only have a limited amount of MC cells. Thinking back, those soldiers throwing balls of fire in the air might have some sort of weird implant embedded in their hands. Something that looked so powerful just might have the ammo he needed.

* * *

Ralof

The weird prisoner who was now in a set of dangerous looking armour was now casually venturing further down the hallway.

I looked back to see if I missed anything, but my gaze fell to the two fallen corpses that were lying almost side by side. The woman was an official. A legionnaire that was very close to becoming a Legate. The male was a veteran legionnaire, judging by the marks on the leather and the combat stance he performed before his death.

Trained by the best in the Empire, these two had probably studied combat, mastered stances and techniques. An example of Tullius' well-honed killers.

Both of them fell within moments of each other. Both of them slaughtered like animals. Both, slain by the strange man.

I shuddered. I couldn't , and wouldn't, want to consider on what might happen if this man had no allegiances. Or even worse, was shackled to one of the Daedric Princes.

I have seen several types of magic, having been a veteran myself. But none like this. This man had to be watched carefully.

* * *

I went on and walked right ahead, humming Yankee Doodle Dandy. I was forced to step out of my merry way though when some random cave-in happened. The only way I could see was now the door to my left. I opened it and went inside.

I didn't expect to find this though.

Two of the blue-garmented warriors were fighting an equal number of men in black folds. The two in black had some blood on their robes. Several sharp implements lay nearby.

I knew who they were. They were a common sight in the Wasteland. Whether it be an idiotic Super Mutant or a sadistic doctor, I can tell what a torturer is.

And right now, they were struggling to fight their escaped captives.

So I just sat back and relaxed. I never did like to waste bullets. Back in the Wasteland, I usually let my friends take the brunt of the attack and then fire back with their own barrage.

Me? I usually just send the occasional random pistol shot. The only times I sprayed things like no tomorrow was when they were getting the upper hand on me. And that rarely happened.

Ralof was trailing a little behind. He did not seem to have the same apathy as I do however. He narrowed his eyes and rushed in, brutally slashing the poor torturers.

I believe the two random stormcloaks saw me though, as I yawned, stretched my arms and sat down in the corner, watching as a child watched an opera. For simplicity's sake, watching with a bored and inattentive expression.

Soon enough, the battle was over, ending with two torturers on the ground in a pool of their own blood, while two stormcloaks, bar one, were furiously gazing my way. I stood up and patted Ralof's back.

"Good job. A bit sloppy on the slashes though."

A snort of contempt from a stormcloak.

"You don't really have time to watch if you're in a battle for your life." Ralof muttered darkly.

"Touched your nerves haven't I? I don't bother helping idiots who were caught in the first place. Let a man's fight be his own fight."

That drew his anger. The stormcloak rushed at me screaming a battle cry that is, well, kind of offensive. As he rapidly closed the distance, I gripped my combat knife and held it forward. Unfortunately for the blue soldier, he didn't have any brakes.

He rushed right into the sharp end of a finely sharpened combat knife meant for slashing the life out of things. He slowly fell backwards, bleeding like a pig. His companion rushed forward and caught him before he fell.

The other stormcloak's eyes were blazing as soon as he finished laying down his grievously injured friend on the floor.

"Why did you stab him?"

" I didn't, I was just holding up my knife to examine it and he just rushed to put it through his chest." I said with sarcasm and a fake hurt voice. 'I wonder if he'll try to rush like his bull-headed friend did.'

Ralof snapped out of the shock of a surprise rush and joined the fray, on the stormcloak's side.

"You better have a good reason for injuring one of Ulfric's own."

At this point, I had lost all interest in conversation. "Fine, fine. " I said, clearly bored. I pulled a Stimpak and approached.

-Third-Person mode -

As Travis approached the downed soldier, the soldier who had been standing beside his friend raised his weapons.

Keeping a level stare at the hostile, Travis made a face and dashed forward.

The soldier then raised his weapons, and let out a battle cry.

"For Skyrim!" Yelled the soldier.

He struck forward, but got empty air. Travis was already at the downed man, pressing the syringe on the wound.

Ralof, who knew when he was outmatched, just stood and watched Travis do his work. However, the comrade beside him did not know about the power gap.

The soldier raised his greatsword above his head and was about to drop it down on the head of a smug Travis, when he heard a soft grunt.

Curious, he looked at the source and gasped. '_This cannot be! That was no potion nor was it a Thalmor trick!_'

* A/N The words between the apostrophes are thoughts. Just in case somebody didn't know.

The wound on the man had closed up and was now almost healed. The only reminder that there was a lethal wound there was a small scar.

Ralof just raised an eyebrow. He had already expected this sort of thing to happen.

Travis was just smirking as he stood up and started fiddling with a lock to a cage that held a mage's corpse inside as if nothing just happened.

Ralof turned his head back to the stunned soldiers.

"Go on out. Try to find out if any other prisoners are alive. I'll escort our 'friend' here." He shouted.

The soldiers looked doubtfully at Ralof. A man of his calibre was normally not used for escorts. But then again, this hasn't been a normal day. They quickly filed out of the room, one of them throwing a final glare at the person who was looting a formerly caged mage corpse.

Travis gathered up his loot and started jogging out to another corridor. Beyond this one were some more Imperials. They drew their weapons as soon as the carefree jogger entered the room. Closing in on him was Ralof.

As soon as the first Imperial raised his weapon, the heavily-armoured Travis whipped out his 10 mm pistol and shot two times at the Imperial's leather armour cowboy-style. The bullets pierced the armour and embedded themselves in a lung and a stomach. The first Imperial went down.

The second Imperial raised his shield as soon as the shots started. A wary face told Travis that this man was probably better trained than the last one. _'But then again, it doesn't really matter on how experienced you are, the only thing that matters is whether you're alive or dead at the end of a battle.' _Travis reminded himself.

He pulled out his plasma pistol and shot two times. The first melted a hole into the shield. The second vaporised the soldier's gut. "For the Imperial Legion." Were the Imperial's last words before he crumpled to the floor.

Travis looked around. He skimmed the place with his eyes before noticing a small red bottle on the table and a small blue bottle on a cabinet. Travis went over and picked one up. He made the Pip-Boy scan it and found out that it was called a 'Potion of Minor Healing'.

'Should I? Ah, to hell with it.' Travis took a swig of the potion and gagged. '_Probably should have known that would have happened. First time I drank anything from nature that was not irradiated to hell. Or at least tastes like nature. This is way too refreshing_.' Travis sighed and glugged the rest of the potion. '_Might as well_'.

Putting the drained bottle on a random barrel, he went ahead and took the blue bottle. 'Potion of Minor Magicka? What the hell? Don't tell me they have freaking magic spells. Well, that lab coat freak sent me to a new dimension so I shouldn't be too surprised if they have things like this.'

Putting it aside, he surveyed the room with a careful eye only those who have scavenged to live could have. After a short period of walking around, taking stuff, and unjamming a stubborn pistol, Travis managed to collect a couple more potions of each variety. 'Potion of Minor Stamina should be helpful.'

The motley duo then started proceeding onwards to hopefully an exit to this place. After going through a badly damaged torture hall, Ralof started toning down his hopes to a place with no visible bodies.

Travis then saw something that definitely cemented the idea of a medieval world.

A bridge operated by a lever.

'That has got to be so cliché.' He thought as they silently moved inside and walked into an Imperial ambush.

Without even looking, Travis pointed his .32 pistol towards the source of each battle cry and shot five rounds, one for every source. Five dead Imperials were on the floor shortly afterwards.

"Hell yeah. I probably would have been the best cowboy in the 1800s."

Ralof hadn't even bothered taking his weapon out. '_This companion of mine could probably take on an entire army if he wanted too._' Ralof thought as Travis reloaded his gun.

A thundering noise interrupted his thoughts.

"No going back now. C'mon let's go." Travis said.

Their next challenge appeared to be gigantic spiders. For this one, Travis took out his favoured melee weapon, Occam's razor. As one of the beasties moved in, Travis leaped at it at a speed he shouldn't have with heavy power armour and plunged the combat knife in an eye. Hissing, the spider let out a poisonous fluid that quickly encompassed the torso of Travis' Tesla armour.

Nothing happened to it, aside from the hissing sound it made when it came into contact.

Travis quickly followed up by severing one of the spider's legs from its body. The enormous arachnid was then walloped on the head by one of Ralof's axes. The spiders kept on attacking though.

Travis quickly made short work of two of the remaining spiders by ramming his knife through one of their heads and slicing the other head open. Ralof then took care of the last survivor with an accurate slash through the head.

Standing aside from the remains, Travis counted a tally as if they were playing a game. " And the bluecoats swing up the last batch, and the hope for winning the championship for the Wastelanders vanished. You heard me right folks! It's a TIE!"

Ralof glared at him with the patience only a soldier has. "This is not a game. Keep moving." With those grim words, he made his way through the cavern.

The light-hearted reply echoed through the cave. "What a spoilsport."

A/N First of all, I'd like to blame several projects which keep getting my attention. School projects. Second of all, I had a mild case of writer's block. This is one of the reasons on why I need a co-author. And third and last point to make is to leave behind a review on whether you want to keep the story in third-person or first-person. And also, Travis' personality is a bit spontaneous. It's probably because of random twisted actions. One last thing. Travis is not OP. It's just that the enemies are weaklings at the beginning of the game. Lastly, sorry about the late update again. I'm typing this from my iPad after getting a new internet. Sorry.


	4. Bad news Bears

The duo walked into a large chamber, the only light coming from a hole in the ceiling and landing on a bear. "So this is a bear. Funny, I expected them to look a bit more intimidating than that." "Shut up! You might wake it. I doubt even that fancy enchanted armour you have on will stay in pristine condition when you get scratched by it."

Travis put on an air of bravado. "No worries here. If you keep on underestimating me like that, I'm gonna give you some Jet." He pulled out a Super Sledge. "Trust me. Operation Bear Go Bye-Bye is on."

Ralof mentally sighed. Why mentally? Partly because of the threat of the unknown Jet. And also because his companion was carrying a gigantic mace that would put giants on the run for their septims.

Travis grinned at his friend's grim expression and walked right up to the bear.

The bear, sensing a hostile presence nearby, got up and growled. "Less aggressive than the Yao Guai. Probably weaker too." The bear reared up defensively from the rapidly approaching Travis. In the background, Ralof was pulling an arrow back from his long bow.

Ralof released the arrow. It flew past Travis and hit the bear's paw. Roaring in pain, the bear charged at Travis. It swiped a claw at his torso and roared in pain again. The heavy armour protecting Travis had broken the claw. Noting the opportunity, Travis swung the Super Sledge and it cracked against the bear's head. If you can call it a head anymore. The moment Travis hit the bear, the head crushed by the raw power of the blow, leaving behind a pool of blood.

Shuddering at the bloody mess, Ralof jogged to Travis. "Stop gawking at your kill and let's go." Travis replied, "It's not that, it's just that the body is changing." The two watched in awe as the former bear body was being forcibly turned into a humanoid one. The worst part was because it had no head and was slowly getting up.

Travis acted quickly. He took out a combat shotgun and was aiming at the thing. "What do you think you are?" The human bear finally seemed to notice that he had no head and replied in an irritated voice.

"Can you stop being so brutal with your kills?" Said the human bear thing with a very faint Lesko-ish voice. "You already managed to eliminate the talking parts of this corpse."

"Hold on doc, how are you able to talk without a mouth?" Silence reigned. "… To tell you the truth I don't really know myself." Ralof, who had been silent throughout the 'resurrection' and conversation, spoke in a hostile voice, "What do you want now mage?"

At that point, Lesko's host's body 's shoulders sagged. "I'm here to tell you that the objective of this experiment is completed." Travis' eyes widened, "You sent the Fire Ants here doc?! These people don't stand a chance." "Yes. I sent at least five dozen here. That was the point of the entire thing. The theory was that these hardy people with their fancy magic and weapons and creatures would kill off the Fire Ant population themselves and give us time to recuperate. But there is a problem. Due to this dimension's relative ignorance about radiation and medical science, this place could easily become another wasteland. Another, more massive, problem, is that these particular Fire Ants are multiplying extremely fast. Give them a year or two and they'll be swarming everywhere. According to my knowledge, their main nest is to the far west of this land. Therefore, I need you to eliminate the nest with whatever means you have. The only reason I'm doing this is because the Capital Wasteland's best soldier is stranded here. Anybody else and I wouldn't have spared my attention. Most people don't want me to save you though. You just had to have caught all that bad reputation. Last I heard, Three Dog was calling you 'The Devil'"

Ralof interrupted the doctor again." Why do you call them Fire Ants?" Travis replied for Lesko "It's because they're giant ants which breathe fire."

As Ralof digested that information, Lesko finally asked the question

Lesko stood still for a moment and threw a small device at Travis. The receiver took a look at the device. It was a small circular device. It was gray and emitted radio waves. Travis checked his Pip-Boy. The radio station was called 'Fire Ant sensor'. Travis opened his mouth but Lesko cut him off. "It is exactly what it sounds like. It will detect Fire Ants that are in a relatively close proximity to you. Made it yesterday but it was buggy then. I'm also gonna work on getting you out of there. It should take me a year or two. And also, here have some spare microfusion cells. I forgot to give you this earlier." Taking the MC cells from Lesko's outstretched hand, Travis took a look at the spotlight at the ceiling. "I don't hear any more noise from the outside. The dragon must be gone." Nodding in agreement, Ralof turned to Lesko, "Thank you for warning us, but we must go. I need to alert Ulfric about this."

Trudging forward Travis replied "Hurry up then."

And on they went, leaving behind a bear body that was lying on the floor in a pool of its own blood.

-Back in the Capital Wasteland-

Lesko turned off the dimension viewer and took a look around the place. He was in the former Tenpenny Tower, now called the Capital Defence Building. The point of the building was to research on ways on how to stop the threats to the Wasteland. It was a small faction compared to the Brotherhood of Steel or even the Enclave, but it had already accomplished more in a year than they have in five.

The entire building was converted from a five-star hotel to a military fort with an excellent defence. The original members were himself, the Lone Wanderer, somebody named Jericho, Roy Phillips, and Fawkes. Jericho was only there because 'I owe the kid a debt and this cancels that out.'

The original residents fled from constant waves of feral ghouls attacking them every day.

(History is coming up. If you don't want to see it, just scroll down until you see 'History is over')

The entire organization started from a chance meeting in Tenpenny Tower. Travis and Jericho were there to kill Alistair Tenpenny while Fawkes and I were travelling there to read the Arlington Library files we borrowed from Moira Brown in Megaton in peace. Both groups reached the Tower at the same time, during one of those waves. Apparently, the security guards were the only ones left. They were trying to fight off the ghouls while evacuating themselves one by one. Unfortunately for both them and us, the ghouls overwhelmed the guards and they went down kicking and screaming as their ghoul assailants scratched and bit them to death.

Of course, with the security guards gone, their only targets left were us.

Fawkes managed to take out at least thirty or so with his Gatling Laser. At that point, I saw one of the ghouls sneak away from the main pack. It didn't seem feral as it had armour and a gun. My eyes then wandered off to Travis and Jericho. It looked like they were both having the time of their lives, blowing away ghoul after ghoul.

The battle ended as abruptly as it started, ending with Travis shrieking "Take that meatbag!" as he drove a knife into a feral ghoul's head.

My thoughts went back to the ghoul that snuck off. I told that point to the others and we all looked around the place. Travis managed to see the ghoul walk into the nearby station.

We walked inside and reached the middle of the tunnel when we saw the ghoul and a couple others looking at us and pointing guns at our general direction. "You don't look like one of Tenpenny's goons. What do you want?" The lead ghoul rasped out.

So we explained our reasons. The ghoul seemed satisfied with what we said. "Nice to meet somebody who doesn't insult us like they do, the name's Roy Phillips."

It was at that point we heard the sound of super mutants bellowing at the top of their lungs "Dead meat to eat!" And also at that point, we were ambushed by super mutants.

As expected, we put them down pretty quickly. Our only casualty was one of the ghouls. We heard heavy footsteps running into our general direction so we decided to retreat to Tenpenny Tower.

As we ran, Roy explained the situation. The super mutants have been hitting them as hard as the ghouls were hitting Tenpenny Tower. They saw the Tower as a suitable defensive building. So they tried to snatch it from Tenpenny to save their rotting hides from ending up in a super mutants gore bag.

We arrived at the Tower and quickly set up makeshift defences. We looted the guard bodies and used them as a blockade as well. By the time the FEV supplemented humans arrived, we had a fort in our hands. Every hour for the next two days was filled with gunshots. A couple hundred super mutants had fallen in those battles. We were just about twenty or so people.

It was during those times we decided to make this organization.

After our initial battle with the super mutants, we set about making the Tower as useful as it could be. We knocked down the walls to expand. We stripped every single room of useful materials. And we set about on super mutant excursions.

After a few months, we drove the super mutants out of Washington DC into Old Olney, were they were eventually destroyed by the deathclaws.

In those few months, we had a message from the Brotherhood of Steel.

The message told us to send a few representatives to discuss something with Elder Lyons.

The representatives we picked were the original members. We left a day after the message was sent. Also, Three Dog had a new report to say.

_It's me, Three Dog! With another super-important public announcement! Don't feed the Yao-Guai! Alright children, news time! I've been receiving reports from the legendary Elder Lyons that the Brotherhood has seen groups of people leaving the fancy-shmancy Tenpenny Tower to fight super mutants in DC and all nearby areas. That's already extraordinary news, with those lazy scumbags having gunfights with our favourite freaks of nature. What's even more extraordinary is that ghouls were involved. Yes kids, ghouls. Ghouls who are co-operating with ghoul-haters. And the punchline? The kid from Vault 101 is there too! And they move like some sorta organization or something. Instead of just mindlessly going from one area to the next, they can be seen wiping out one area and returning to the Tower and back to wipe out another area. Children, I think we have another Brotherhood of Steel. Led by a Vaultie asshole. And now some music._

Our travel to the Citadel was pretty uneventful aside from the random radscorpion or raider. But when we arrived, it seemed that the scale of our impact was pretty impressive. We were escorted inside by a Paladin wielding a minigun and choosing to point it at Fawkes. That was expected. The Brotherhood never really liked mutants.

When we entered the courtyard, it seemed like the entire Brotherhood had holed up there. Elder Lyons was at the lead.

Seeing that we were now inside and pacified by the fact that the entire Brotherhood was pointing their guns at them, the Elder stepped forth. "I have been hearing strange but good things about you. My name is Elder Lyons. "

I have a question Travis. You are a slaver, a tyrant, and a raider. Why are you doing this?" the Elder said. Turning to Fawkes he said "You are a mutant, yet you are turning against your kind. What made you do so?" "I have been abused by them. That is all I will say." Was the super mutant's reply. Lyons turned to Travis. "Because I felt like it."

Elder Lyons shook his head, "You need a better answer than that. Do any of you have any intention to join the Brotherhood of Steel?" A chorus of shaking heads. Lyons sighed "I expected that. The reason why we have so many of our Knights here is because you might have had an answer that would have severely conflicted with our interests. Now I hear you're doing this because you feel like it. Tell me what the name of your group is. Roy answered "We do not have an official name, but I heard a couple of ghouls and smoothskins shout out 'For the Capital! That should be enough proof of our intentions.'

"I see. We will have to talk later. I have some subjects to discuss. Brotherhood, you are dismissed!" Every Knight, Paladin, and Initiate went walking away back to their own duties. "Paladin Bael, escort these people out of the Citadel." And with that, the meeting was over.

We had several more discussions after this. The Brotherhood would remain friendly to the Capital Defence as long as we don't attack any traders, settlements or Brotherhood Outposts. They were also going to send us a couple of their scribes to assist us. I believe their names were Scribe Peabody and Scribe Rothchild.

Speaking about assistance, the scribes quickly adapted to my laboratory and helped me make the solution to destroy the breeding grounds of Radscorpions. We collapsed their tunnels by using explosives on their columns while the soldiers covered us. Now the Radscorpion population has been decreased by almost forty percent of their population.

Shortly after our alliance to the Brotherhood was formed, rejected recruits from the Brotherhood and Wastelanders and ghouls joined the cause. The organization (nobody had a name for it) had grown so large and influential that even the Outcasts sent a diplomatic party to form an alliance. The only group which didn't accept us was the Enclave.

_I, President John Henry Eden, denounce this new group of Brotherhood wannabes. They are nothing but crooks led by a criminal mastermind. Their alliances to the Brotherhood and to the Outcasts only strengthen my cause. This so-called organization is nothing but a scam. They will fool everybody to giving their minds and souls to them. As the President of America, I will command my forces, your saviours, to aid you against these forces of corruption._

Shortly after our fiasco with the super mutants and the Radscorpions, we found out that the Fire Ants have not been completely wiped out. A couple of survivors went ahead and made nests everywhere. The Fire Ant Queens had gone unnoticed for several years. In that time, they grew sentience. Now they have armies.

As expected, everyone was caught off-guard. Except for the Enclave.

_See my good citizens? I have told you that this would happen, but the stalwart tyrants, those infernal Paladins would not easily lose their allies against the Enclave. Do any of you know a certain Lesko? Yes, the one involved with the start of the Fire Ants. You should know by now citizens, that that same Lesko is one of the founding members of the 'Capital Defence'. After the first incident happened, I was willing to forgive him for his mistakes. But __**this! This is treason!**__ He has access to scientific files. And he has the tools to replicate what he has done. Leave a murderer with a murderer's tools and he will murder I say. But do not worry, my good men and women, the Enclave will eliminate both the Fire Ants and the murderous arsons that pretend to be your deliverance._

They were willing to blame me for everything. Every day was spent in the lab, looking for a counter against the Fire Ants. Yesterday it was a counter-signal that would frenzy the ants. Today, it's a dimensional transporter.

(History is over)

"Peabody, is there any change in the Fire Ants or the environment around them?"

"Not yet Lesko, but the signs of adaptation are present. They have more food there. So they changed their eating styles. I'm expecting them to grow a couple centimetres more."

"Rothchild, how's the outside world?"

"We're faring better than we should be. We destroyed two of their nests and have expanded more into DC with minimal losses."

"What are the losses?"

"According to my reports, we lost five Wastelanders and an Initiate."

Lesko took a deep breathe. At these kind of losses, he might have to gamble with forces he has no power on.

"Hey Peabody. What are the chances of us gaining access to an interdimensional army?"

Peabody stopped typing on the keyboard of his terminal and looked at Lesko with a face that showed he was not at all pleased with the losses himself.

"I have absolutely no idea. Lesko, this is probably the best chance we have. We need Travis to have connections in other worlds. Reports from the recon teams we have say that the Fire Ant Queens are just unleashing army after army."

"Agreed."

Scribe Rothchild shook his head.

"Unless we find a way to provide weapons and supplies to the transported soldiers, not to mention build a dimensional transporter that will actually retrieve somebody and put them here, we won't be able to sustain them. What if those same dimensions have their own enemies? We might accidentally transfer them here and create an even bigger threat than the Fire Ants. And the entire thing just screams cliche."

Peabody glared at Rothchild as he continued, "But all of those only count if Travis actually makes any connections, which is highly unlikely considering his past performances."

Rothchild finally seemed to notice all the depressed stares of the guards and the intense glares of Peabody and a couple other scribes. The more mature guards just stared while the younger ones muttered profanities, with one of them misjudging the volume of his voice and letting out a barely audible "Great pep talk."

It was at that point that a Brotherhood Paladin entered the room.

" Lesko, a man named No-Bark Noonan managed to enter the premises. He was rambling about some sort of disturbance in space and time. Says that the cave rats told him to cast a spell on the anomaly."

Further down the hallway, a voice startled the scientists. "I'm tellin' ya! A guy named Sheogorath appeared in one of my dreams, right when Jingwei stabbed himself! Told me to say his name to the cave rats! Them cave rats sent me here to talk with some guy named Trevor!"

The Paladin turned back to the hallway. "Didn't even get his name right." he muttered under his breath.

-Back in Helgen-

Back at where Travis and Ralof were, they were met by a giant gaping hole in the wall. Inside the hole was the exit to the Outside.

"Thank God. I was getting tired of enclosed spaces." Travis rushed forward, only to be assaulted by a frantic Ralof.

"Quick! The dragon is here! Hide."

The two held their breaths as the dragon flew past them. It was let out when the dragon flew out of sight.

Getting up and dusting himself off, Ralof said, "I have a cousin, in the nearby town of Riverwood. She'll help and give us supplies. After that, we need to get to Ulfric."

Removing his helmet, Travis replied, "Supplies are good, I haven't eaten since yesterday."

The two set off at that. They walked some distance away and Riverwood was in sight when they were attacked by wolves.

"Damn overgrown dogs." Travis muttered as he slit the wolf's throat.

"I agree." Ralof finished whacking his axe at the wolf's neck and started cleaning it.

As they neared the village, Travis asked Ralof about something he had been wondering about since he took the Sparks book from the dead mage.

"How the heck do you do magic?"

Ralof made a face, "Don't ask me. Magic is for the weak and the elves."

Travis made a mental note not to use his Chinese Stealth Armour around Ralof.

As the duo entered the village, Travis could feel suspicious glances that pierced his back. "How about we go slower? It helps give them the feeling that I'm up to something and that they should not interfere."

Ralof subtly looked around before responding, "Keep your mouth shut. Somebody could attack you if you keep whispering and acting suspicious."

"I notice that you didn't say 'Somebody could kill you if you keep whispering and acting suspicious."

"Just shut up you arrogant fool."

Travis' carefree grin disappeared.

"Ralof, don't attract attention. Hadvar just entered the blacksmith's house."

Ralof swore, "I forgot that that damn Imperial lived right next-door to me. We need to lay low until he leaves."

"He's coming out! Quick get in that cabin."

They quickly opened the door to the wooden cabin right next to them and threw themselves inside.

They quickly got up and closed the door.

"Um… Hello? Are you looking to buy or just browse?"

They did not answer quickly enough though.

[Speech 80/85 Failed] "Uh... I guess we're just here to browse. Or offer aid." Travis looked at the scene before him.

Two people, one obviously being the shopkeeper, looked like they were engaging in a shouting match.

The shopkeeper shook his head, "I'm sorry but this is a private matter."

"Lucan! We might get the Claw back if you stop being so stubborn." Was the female's answer.

Lucan turned away for a few moments and answered. "Fine. You're hired. You need to look for a Claw. A golden Claw. It was stolen by bandits a couple days ago and we think they're holed up in Bleak Falls Barrow. If you find it and return it to us, I'll give you extra gold I saved up."

Raising an eyebrow at Travis' intimidating armour, Lucan continued, "I don't think that would be too much of a problem for you though."

Ralof looked at Travis with a glare that said, 'You idiot! Why did you offer aid? I had some spare septims that we could have used as cover."

Travis gave a look that said, 'Don't care. You suck for not telling me earlier. End of conversation.'

Ralof

'Of all the one-man armies I get, why do I get the scatterbrained one?'


	5. A golden claw, and MEAD!

Travis poked his head out of the door.

"He's gone, let's move."

* * *

"Can I eat something?"

"I guess you can…"

Ralof was sitting on one of the wooden chairs by the table with his head in his hands. 'With that kind of attitude' he thought grimly, 'I can only imagine how well this will go.'

Looking up from his palms, he saw Travis tucking into some venison while somehow managing to hold a bottle of ale in one hand in front of a slightly confused Gerdur. Silently cursing, he slid his face back into his palms.

Travis took no notice of his frustrated companion. He just killed a bunch of people and now he's drinking some alcohol. Eat somebody else's food? Why not? Actually hunt down some Fire Ants so that he could save this world from complete and utter destruction? Screw that.

After a couple minutes of awkward silence, aside from the occasional drunken slur, Ralof stood up.

"Gerdur, I'll be departing for Windhelm in a few days to warn Ulfric about this new threat. Travis, you're coming with me as a witness. So I expect you to be presentable when we get there."

"Farewell then, flying molerat." Travis drunkenly slurred and then he fell over, asleep.

"Idiot." Gerdur muttered. Ralof silently agreed.

* * *

Travis

That night, I had a dream.

Unlike my other drunken dreams, this one had a single annoyance in it, in the shape of a certain scientist from the future or whatever.

He didn't say a word; he was probably going to make a comeback to whatever I say. So we both stared at each other like idiots for the next five minutes until Lesko sighed, readjusted his posture, and spoke up.

"We have a problem back at headquarters."

"You mean aside from the sentient Fire Ants who want to barbeque us and then devour us like a mutie would?"

Lesko glared at Travis, "Yes.", he droned on, "Somebody got past our heavily armed guards and barged into our rather not so comfortable laboratory, just to babble on and on about 'anomalies in the Multiverse' and other crazy stuff. The odd thing is that you are the cause of the anomaly, or so he says. At one point, he said you would need to talk to somebody named Vadril. He said you would meet him at one of the watchtowers at a place called Whiterun."

As he went on and on, I took the opportunity to summon up a chair, a Nuka-Cola, and a pair of sunglasses.

"I don't know what he means by this but maybe this mysterious fellow he was talking about could shed some light on this problem… Travis, what are you doing?"

I leaned up slightly and responded in the most coherent way I could.

"Taking in some sunshine."

Lesko face-palmed. "You do know that it's night-time right now." Oh.

I looked around. We were on top of a random building in the wastes.

"Continuing from my last interruption, you should ask your Stormcloak friend if he knows where Whiterun is. Another noteworthy thing is that shortly after we apprehended No-Bark, a woman showed up, apologising profusely for her friend. When we asked her for her name, all she said was Courier Six."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"What are you? Are you drunk or something? We need you to find this Vadril. He or she might prove useful to us."

Before I could reply, I was yanked from the peaceful world of dreams and woke up to a very wet me, and a very amused looking Ralof carrying a bucket.

Connect the dots yourself.

Apparently, Ralof wanted to head over to Windhelm to warn some guy named Ulfric about the Fire Ants, and to help in the preparation of defences against the dragons. But he couldn't, because we had to fulfil a promise we made to a random trader.

And that's how I found myself trekking up a snowy mountain by myself. I have to admit, after you get used to the scorching heat of the wastes, cold becomes even colder. And I was in metal armour too. Metal armour that had sparks of electricity at the back, but still metal armour.

Of course, bandits just had to find me in a very stiff state. They just had to find me when I just slung my weapon over my back just so that I could move better. They just had to find me in a state where I could still just barely move.

I hate everything.

The first bandit rushed at me with a somewhat rusted sword. I barely registered the pain because of my very numb skin. I managed to grab the sword blade and thrust it backward. It cut inside the bandit's head deeply and I only managed to breathe for a second before I heard the chink of an arrow bouncing off my shoulder plate. It only just grazed me, but it was enough to knock me over. I immediately rolled over and pushed myself to my feet. I heard a third bandit charging at me. I fumbled around my pockets to find something that could protect me. I managed to grab something sharp and plunged it into the bandit's war-painted face. The Stimpak dug into the forehead with the needle part almost completely submerged.

Jeez, talk about the cure hurts more than the disease.

Bandito numero dos was still on my case, firing arrows every couple of seconds. I managed to find a gun with my probably frostbitten fingers. I took it out and fired two times. One bullet completely missed the target. The other went through her neck.

I managed to pull myself into their little fort and found another bandit. This one was wearing metal armour just like me. The difference was that his skin was green. I managed to fire my dinky little pistol at his head at point blank range before he actually attacked me.

I removed my Tesla armour and put on one of the bandit's leather armour. I might freeze to death, but at least I'll freeze to death being able to move. I took off the green bandit's helmet and took a look at the somewhat mutilated face.

Jutting teeth, small eyes, sloping forehead, all my senses crying out 'Super Mutant!' Yep, this guy is definitely not human.

I scoured the fort to find a couple pieces of gold and a random Potion of Minor Stamina. I had to say that because the label on the bottle said it.

I sat down and made a small fire with my laser rifle just so that I can recover from the cold.

I rummaged through my bag to find the 'Sparks' book that I found of the dead prisoner. As I read through it, I noticed that the book kept making references to willpower. 'As lightning is life, it will also be your enemies' death. Focus on your hand, and think about life. Then will it to a physical form. Sparks will fly from your hands to devour your enemies.'

Looking at my hand, I thought about random stuff, like eating a molerat and taking some money off a corpse. The result was a small electronic sound and a couple flickers of light.

Nope. Just nope.

I yelled and shoved my hand into the snow. Immediately, the lights stopped flickering.

I shivered and continued on, one hand clutching a torch, and the other, my pistol.

Sometime later, I encountered even more bandits, which were easily dealt with my pistol. Thank the Lord for whoever made 10 Mm Pistols. The bandits weren't really that hard to take down. Probably because they're freezing their butts off in the most random place to set up camp in.

The doors were very creaky when opened, so when I did so, two bandits were immediately in my face. It was a good thing I was holding my torch up. Because one of the bandits who jumped me immediately burnt his face. The lucky bandit then proceeded to run around screaming until he tripped and fell into his own campfire. The other bandit proceeded to stab my shoulder as this went on. It must have been magic or something, because I felt myself getting weaker. I punched her with my torch hand and ran off a little distance to regain my composure.

Sadly, it didn't take long for her to catch up. "It'll be easier to rob you when you're dead!" She snarled. Does every single enemy really have to sound like an angry molerat on a diet?

She rushed at me with her dagger. Fortunately for her, she managed to nick my torso and I felt the strange sensation of life being slowly sucked out of me again. Unfortunately for her, she felt a piece of lead enter her head and got the sensation of having her life completely taken away from her.

On the bright side, they did have some decent loot, which includes a couple gold coins, the dagger, and a semi-cooked piece of venison which I ate.

When I picked open the chest, I found another couple gold coins and another red potion labelled 'Potion of Minor Healing'. I put them along with my stuff and carried on.

As I continued on, I turned on the flashlight on my Pip-Boy 3000. No point in sneaking around in an abandoned building. For some time, the only sound I would hear is my own footsteps. Abruptly, I heard the shuffling of an animal nearby. The shuffling then became quiet squeaks. Sure enough, as I entered yet another room, little molerat like things launched themselves at me. I dealt with them easily enough.

Looking back, they were actually more like giant rats than molerats. Eh, it doesn't matter, they're dead now.

I collected a small gem from the room that looked valuable and pocketed it.

A few minutes later, I started seeing traces of web. Lots of web.

A few more minutes later, I saw the spider that spun the web. As of this day, I will never look at them the same way. It was gigantic, just as big as a super mutant and twice as wide. Fortunately for me, I had the foresight of bringing a laser weapon. The monstrosity burnt to death.

I looked at the person struggling to get out of the spider's web. He was dark-skinned, skinny, had thin eyes. He resembled some of the lighter-skinned version of these on my execution day. An elf I believe.

He glared at me with his thin eyes.

"Well?!"

"Well what?"

"Cut me loose!"

"Why should I?"

He glared at me again.

"I have the golden claw on me, if you cut me down, I'll share with you its secrets!"

I scanned what I could see of him. I saw the claw sitting in one of his side pockets. On the other side, I could see a book.

I took out my knife and cut the golden claw and the book loose. I then took out my laser rifle.

The elf, who relaxed after I started cutting off web, started struggling when he saw that I took the claw and the book.

I grinned a smug grin. "Sorry, I don't work with thieves too well." I fried him and the webs.

Through the burnt webbing, I could see a corridor. Since I already went this far I might as well go further.

I should never listen to myself again. Further in the cavern, there was gold, jewels, and dead people rising out of their graves to murder me.

I was lucky to have a shotgun on me when it happened. It was the only weapon I had that wouldn't have missed with all the trembling my hands were doing. Back in the wastes, I had nightmares about all the dead raiders I killed rising up, body parts still missing, to kill me in my sleep. That was the last night I ate Fancy Lads before sleeping.

A couple traps and shotgun shells later, I found myself facing a giant door. From what I could see at the front, it was a miniature puzzle like the one I did earlier, only without clues. I tried everything, from inserting the claw into the keyhole that looked like it was shaped for it, to looking for a hidden button. I was thinking about blasting it open with a frag when I saw little markings on the claw that resembled the pictures on the wall. Stupid me.

When I set the dials accordingly and inserted the claw (again), the dials turned and the door slid open. The room inside was huge. From where I was, I could see a coffin and a wall. When I got closer, I noticed a chest. Quickly, I turned off my light and went into crouching position. I snuck up the stairs and went for the coffin. No dead man is getting the jump on me.

I reached for my Super Sledge, and smashed the coffin open, revealing a slightly surprised dead man. Before he could react, I smashed his head in. Then I looked toward the chest. Inside the chest were the regular gold and potions. Then I searched the guy who woke up on the wrong side of the afterlife. I found a random stone. I took that too, it looked like the walls here and I wanted a souvenir anyway. I went ahead and searched the room. A few minutes later showed me a way out.

Before I left, I took a look at the wall. It was covered in strange writing. They may be incomprehensible to me, but something tells me that it is more than what it seems.

"You found the claw!? It looks a little smaller though. Probably just my mind. I would like to thank you." Lucan quickly muttered, focusing more on the hand that was putting the claw down rather than the person the hand belonged too.

Lucan was staring at the claw on the table and the heavily armoured man who presented it to him. Common sense told him not to beat around the bush.

"Here's your reward."

Travis looked at the bag of gold handed to him. He then said in the iciest way he could.[Barter 20/20 Success] "I fought giant spiders, raiders, and dead men for that claw. I want double."

The hair on the back of Lucan's head stood up. He instinctively felt for the gold behind his counter. He loved his gold, but life is better than gold.

"And then after he paid me, I sold every jewel I had on me. Except for this one. It looked nice." Ralof looked at the sum on the table. It was at least two or three times the amount most nobles carry in their pockets. 'I didn't even know Lucan had that much trade money.'

"Can you show me what jewel you kept?"

"It's right here." Travis held up the white stone he recovered in the room with the giant rats.

Gerdur glanced at the Soulgem, then continued her cooking. "You should know that those giant black rats you found are called skeevers. And that that's not a regular jewel you have there."

Travis pocketed the stone. "It's still valuable. Anyways, when are we leaving?"

Ralof took a look outside, it was almost dusk. "Tomorrow at first light."

Travis was already at the door. "You know where to find me."

"Stop right there! You already caused a commotion yesterday when you argued with Alvor about the quality of his products and proved yourself correct in the most unprofessional way you could."

"It was only one dagger!"

"You're staying here if we have to tie you up and lock you in the basement."

"Slavers." Travis muttered.

Next morning didn't hold much interest. The motley duo waved goodbye to Gerdur and started walking down the well-worn trail to Whiterun, their first stop.

Halfway after an assault from wolves, which was easily overcome, Travis checked his Pip-Boy. 'No alcohol?! No!'

Ralof saw the look of discomfort on his companion's face and inquired why. When he learnt the reason, he guffawed loudly.

"You took down several bandits with ease, but here you are, with a face to match the look of a dying man. You can take it!"

Travis

'No.' Travis thought darkly, 'I can't.'

Most of the raiders he killed had some form of alcohol on them, whether it was just booze or vodka, it didn't matter. Withdrawal is a bad thing to go through. Travis continued walking on.

That was, until he saw the beginnings of a building just a few dozen metres away.

Travis turned to Ralof. "Is that Whiterun?"

Ralof replied without meeting Travis' gaze, "No, I believe that that's just Honningbrew Meadery."

Mead? Isn't that alcohol?

* * *

Ralof

As soon as the word 'Meadery' passed through his lips, he knew he just asked for trouble. A couple seconds after he finished that sentence, Travis started a brisk jog to the Meadery.

"C'mon Ralof! We need to get to Whiterun faster! Remember? Dragons and ants?"

Ralof mentally chastised himself. 'He could have at least not lied through his teeth!'

Travis continued on, whistling, and not even bothering to give the nearby giant more than a glance. 'He's worse than all the other drinkers I know.' Ralof took out his bow and stuck some arrows into the giant's back. This momentarily distracted the giant from its fight with the others, giving enough time for a woman with war paint on her face and a bow slung on her back to clutch the giant's leather clothing and to propel herself onto the giant's face with a dagger in her hand. As she dispatched it, Travis opened the door to the Meadery and ordered some mead.

* * *

Travis

Somewhat disturbed to see a giant in a loincloth outside, Travis took a look at the barkeep.

He looked Caucasian, with blonde hair and white skin.

He looked back at Travis, a welcoming smile plastered on his face.

"Can I help you?" He asked the Travis.

That snapped some sense back to Travis. "You new to being a barkeep or something?"

Einar blinked. "How did you know that?"

"I could tell from that smile on your face. Experienced barkeeps don't have that smile. Experienced barkeeps look at their customer and analyse whether they're trouble or not. So how did you get the job? You killed the original? You blackmailed him to give you the business?" Travis casually remarked, forgetting that this was not the cruel wasteland.

Einar blinked again. "What? No! Sabjorn was sick, so he chose me to barkeep for him today. Mallus wasn't too happy about that though."

A voice from the nearby door interrupted Einar's steady stream of words.

"Damn right I don't!"

A very annoyed looking man burst through the door carrying a box.

At the same time, Ralof went through the front door, looking quite annoyed as well.

Travis looked at Ralof.

"What?"


	6. Guards and Luck and Unlucky Guards

"What do you mean 'What?' ? You saw those warriors fighting that giant."

"You mean that thing in the loincloth? I say live and let live." Travis felt slightly wobbly with that sentence. That was only somewhat true.

The grumpy faced man carrying the box tapped his foot impatiently.

"Are you going to buy something or not? This is not a tavern for you to gossip in."

Travis immediately felt the need to whack Mallus with an oversized mallet. Ralof was just glaring at him, and Einar started nervously cleaning a mug that was not too empty. A tense silence crept into the unlikely group. Einar, who was terribly afraid that his temporary promotion might be much briefer than he thought it would last, tapped Travis' shoulder. Travis turned to face him.

"What do you want?"

"Ah..erm, aren't you going to order any mead?"

Travis' eyes lit up.

"I'll take some mead."

As Einar and Travis negotiated a price, Mallus entered the area behind the counter and set down his box there. Ralof strode off to a nearby corner, looking at the banter between Travis and Einar. Judging by what they said, he thought, this is going to be a long wait. He then started absentmindedly checking the state of his weapons.

* * *

A couple of hours and a box of Honningbrew's finest mead later, they set off for Whiterun yet again. The sun was setting and the clouds were heavy and dark. Soon enough it started raining. Fascinated, Travis stopped for a moment to feel the raindrops dripping down on him. Ralof stayed quiet, whether it was the knowledge that Travis had never seen rain or if it was because of the events that happened in the meadery.

Soon enough, they reached the stables. Skulvar Sable-Hilt looked at Ralof with a guarded expression. Stormcloaks, he thought, meant trouble. Ralof suddenly stopped when he saw the look in Skulvar's eye. Travis took no notice of this and wandered forward for a minute before noticing his companion was missing. He shrugged and carried on.

A few minutes later, Travis was almost at the gate when a slightly irritated Ralof, who was now wearing a brown tunic, caught up to him.

"What's the matter? Was your little bandit get-up wet?"

Ralof's temper was slowly rising up to boiling point and he was about to tell Travis that his uniform was not a bandit get-up and that he would dare to insult one of Ulfric's sons of Skyrim when a sodden guard with a doused torch in one hand stopped them.

"Sorry. The gate is closed with all this dragon business going about. If you want a place to stay for the night, there's a small settlement south of here."

Travis stared at him.

"Let me in, or else."

The guard took a look at Travis, and then he laughed.

"Or else what? I have the entire Whiterun guard waiting inside."

Travis snorted and turned around as if to leave. "Fine. Don't blame me, a survivor from Helgen, when dragons attack and burn down Riverwood."

"Hold up now! Did you say you were from Helgen?"

"Maybe I am. I can't decide where the headsman would chop off your head. Probably in front of the townspeople. That way they can lament over their loss of Riverwood by throwing rotten tomatoes at you while the headsman gives you a haircut. I should warn you though, he's not too experienced at cutting hair. He might just accidentally cut you below your hairline. Like maybe the neck."

The guard had heard enough.

"Alright,alright! I'll turn you loose. But if you disrespect the law, I think I can take a gander at what animal head would rest on my mantle."

Travis kept on grinning unfazed. "You'd have to push your way through my crowd of adoring fans first."

The guard gave one last glare as Travis and a seething Ralof went through the gates.

Once they were inside, Ralof opened his mouth to start the complimentary lecture about respect but Travis shushed him with a key. Ralof looked at the key in surprise.

"This isn't the first time I've done that. And it probably won't be the last." Travis remarked, taking in the features of the city. His eyes scanned his surroundings for traders, drunks, houses, and most importantly, taverns.

Shaking his head at Travis' folly, Ralof stepped in front of him.

"C'mon, the Bannered Mare is just ahead." He said.

As they plodded through the roomy streets of Whiterun, Travis took a bottle of mead from his stuff and plugged it down. Out of nowhere, a voice called out to the duo.

"You been to the meadery? Figures, you rich folk always have money for mead." Travis looked around for the source of the voice. He found the voice's owner to be a rag wearing beggar.

Travis, who occasionally gave water to random beggars when he was in a good mood, took another bottle of mead and tossed it to the beggar. The beggar managed to snap out of his surprised state long enough to catch the bottle before it crashed to the floor.

He sat up, giving the duo a toothy grin. "Thanks there fella." Ralof kept on walking.

"Don't help his bad habit."

Travis started walking too, when the beggar suddenly stood up and started walking at his same pace.

"You mind helping a beggar." He whispered into Travis' ear.

"Depends, what do you need?" He whispered back.

The beggar slowed a little bit to check if Ralof was within earshot. He turned back to Travis. "Inside the Bannered Mare there's a bottle of ale labelled 'Argonian Ale'. The good stuff. I need you to give it to me."

"Why not?" Was Travis' reply.

Then, as suddenly as he appeared, the beggar folded into a nearby crowd of people.

* * *

A couple minutes later, Travis emerged from the Bannered Mare.

Coming up to him was the beggar. "You have it?" he asked once he reached earshot.

In response, Travis held up a bottle with the label 'Argonian Ale'. The beggar's hands shot out as they reached the bottle. "Thanks friend. Here, have this potion I, er, liberated from the temple." As he said this, he reached into the pockets of his rags and handed over a rather large version of the potion bottles Travis collected. The beggar grinned as he downed the contents of the bottle. "If you ever need anything, just ask for Brenuin." Then he slipped back into a different crowd. Travis opened the Bannered Mare to reveal a pleasant atmosphere of warm.

Inside the tavern was everything Travis liked about it. The annoying bard, the efficient workers, the arrogant braggarts, and most importantly, the good food and wine.

Travis went over to Ralof, who was sitting on a nearby chair. "Right now, there aren't too many empty beds. I got one for myself, you're going to have to go to the Drunken Huntsman." Ralof said to Travis. Travis himself wasn't in the mood to argue. So he silently slipped out into the open air. He went over to a nearby stall. Before he could ask where the Drunken Huntsman is, the vendor he was talking to snapped.

"If you're going to try to flirt with me you have another thing coming!"

"But-"

"No buts! Now if you're not here to buy my goods, then you better-"

"Hold up! I'm not here to flirt or buy; I'm just here to ask directions for the Drunken Huntsman. Why so aggro?"

The vendor took a look at Travis and smirked.

"The Drunken Huntsman is an inn for the working man. Unless you're a hunter, a mercenary, or an apprentice to the blacksmith, you can't stay there."

The vendor stopped to stare at the Bannered Mare for a second, and when she turned back, she had a certain gleam in her eye that reminded Travis about a certain annoying tinkerer in Megaton.

"I do know a way for you to stay at the Bannered Mare though. Inside is a man named Mikael. If you rough him up enough, he might flee from the inn. You'll know if it's him. He has the voice of a snow lark, but his heart is not the purest I've seen."

Travis grinned. This woman was nice enough to offer him a chance of violence and a room. He cracked his knuckles and headed for the Bannered Mare with a hint of madness in his eyes.

"You lose!" Travis yelled at the fleeing bard. Travis took out an empty bottle of ale. With precise timing, he managed to trip Mikael as he rounded the corner using the bottle."

The inside of the Bannered Mare was rather tidy, considering the brawl that ensued. Sinmir looked at Travis disapprovingly. Ralof was upstairs on his own bed. The innkeeper and her single waitress were tidying up what broken bottles and upturned benches there were. Uthgerd had a smile on her face. When Travis turned to look at the inside of the Bannered Mare, Uthgerd gave a tiny nod of approval.

Travis strode over to the innkeeper and asked for a room without blink or pause. She gave Travis a sour look.

"Yes, we have a newly vacant bed. So newly vacant, that you could still see its former owners bloodstains on it."

Travis beamed at her reply.

"Excellent, I'll be staying for one night." As he said this, he upended a small bag of coins on the table.

* * *

The next day, Ralof woke up sopping wet. In front of him stood Travis, carrying an empty bucket.

Travis and Ralof proceeded downstairs grumbling. It was mostly Ralof grumbling though. Travis went on ahead to the innkeeper and started ordering some food, when he noticed something peculiar out of the corner of his eye. A white coat. And not just a white coat. A white lab coat. Travis took his plate and ,as stealthily as he could, walked towards the unsuspecting form of Lesko.

As he crept on, he started hearing the conversation Lesko was having with the ragged beggar beside him.

"I know he's here. His organic signature was here."

"It might have been any signature. Now simmer down, somebody's watchin' us."

"If you're gonna say time-traveling cave rats who have beards, then you are sadly mistaken."

"Don't you see the predicament we're in? We should get to the Western Watchtower and prepare our thingies."

"… Thingies?"

Travis tried to suppress a snigger. It failed. Lesko snapped his head in his direction so fast, he heard his neck cramps crack. It stayed like that for a few awkward seconds until the ragged beggar noticed Travis.

"Tiny Chupacabras **were** after us. You lied! Now he's gonna skin us alive to make another one of his fur dresses!"

Lesko murmured something that sounded somewhat like counting to Travis. Then he started reassuring the crazed beggar who probably had one too many overdoses on Psycho.

"You said that to that poor Amren fellow too! There is no such thing as a Chupacabra!"

During the course of this, Travis pulled out his Gattling gun. He knew what to do. He jumped on the table and pointed the gun at the hyperventilating beggar.

"Shut up! We got ya outnumbered!"

Lesko looked at him like a super mutant would look at a pistol.

The beggar started having seizures.

"The Chupacabras have giant blunderbusses! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! HE's NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!" Then, he promptly passed out.

Travis looked at the small audience they obtained. Sinmir had his weapon out. Ralof was sitting as far away as he could. The innkeeper started mumbling about visitors. Everyone else was just staring at Travis. After a few seconds, a guard kicked in the door.

"I heard the yelling, what's the fuss about."

Travis suddenly felt very small. That voice was the same voice of the guard from last night.

The guard took an eyeful of the incident. Travis was standing on a table, with the bloodstains of last night on his armour, Lesko looked horrified, there was an unconscious beggar lying on the floor mumbling incoherently, and there was a crowd of onlookers who looked extremely confused.

The guard made a small chuckling noise as he shook his head and looked again. He started advancing towards Travis with his sword hanging loosely in his right hand. At about a meter away from Travis, he stopped and glanced behind him. The group of onlookers were slowly dispersing and going back to their regular routine. The guard looked back at Travis who was now standing on the floor, wearing a blank expression.

"Nice crowd of adoring fans you have there."

* * *

Lesko and Ralof were watching Travis through bars. Ralof was still wearing that same smirk when he was arrested, he noted. No-Bark was apparently in the temple of Kynareth.

Travis was arrested for two counts of assault, one count of resisting arrest, one count of property damage when he smashed the bench using the guard's helmeted head, and one count of lollygagging.

"If you need me, I'll be in Windhelm. I'll be taking too long if I wait for you to be deported." Ralof said.

Travis was just sitting on the bedroll he was given, looking a lot like a Radscorpion. His expression told Ralof enough. Soon enough, Ralof retreated to the world above.

Lesko just stood there, looking at him disapprovingly. "I can't believe that you can decimate entire gangs of heavily armed raiders and Regulators, but could only give a dented helm to a single guard of a backwards country."

Travis just sat as silent as ever, giving Lesko his most spiteful look. Then, an idea flashed in Travis' mind.

"Hey Lesko, can you ask around for a guy named Brenuin?

* * *

A couple minutes after Travis' escape, he was caught red-handed by the same guard who put him there.

"You don't get tired of breaking the law do you?"

Travis replied by stabbing him in the stomach with Occam's razor.

"Guards!" He yelled before passing out.

A guard started running up the stairs and drew his sword at the sight of Travis. Two guards who were guarding a bridge joined him. Two more guards and a dark-skinned elf in leather armour showed up. Travis identified the elf as a Dark Elf, or Dunmer, from what he learned from Ralof.

"Submit or die!" The Dunmer shouted.

"Does a chicken have lips?" At that, Travis charged with his knife.

One of the quicker-witted guards raised his shield and bashed Travis in the face. Taking the opportunity, two guards went in for the kill. Fortunately for Travis, a greatsword and a war axe can get tangled up. Travis quickly recovered, and then took a knife that fell from its master's sheath. With two knives, Travis began a flurry of attacks so fast and fierce that nobody dared to interrupt.

Except for the elf. She threw down her sword. The other guards understood the meaning. They moved around her, forming a phalanx. Suddenly, the Dunmer let loose lightning at Travis. The lightning struck at the knives, electrocuting the holder who only wore the rags he was given as he marched into prison. The feeling of being electrocuted was enough to startle Travis for a few seconds, long enough for two guards to take his hands, and a third to hold a knife up his throat.

A few minutes later saw Travis bound and presented to the Jarl like a prize pig. Jarl Balgruuf took in the prisoner before him. Travis was still in rags, this time without his knife. He had marks to show the earlier scuffle.

The Jarl sighed. "Why have you brought this prisoner before me?" He asked.

Irileth glared at Travis. "He tried breaking out and nearly disembowelled one of my men." She replied.

"I'm tired of executions by now. We've had two already in the past month. And it doesn't improve your appetite if you watch somebody's head rolling on the floor. How about we give him a chance for penance? Tell you what prisoner, if you help my court wizard in his task, we'll let you go. If you can, also investigate on these dragon rumours I've been hearing."

Travis decided to not annoy his judge, jury, and would-be executioner.

"I can answer your question about dragons right now."

"Oh really? What can you say then?"

"I got a pretty good view of a dragon while people were trying to murder it while fighting amongst themselves. I believe the place was called Helgen. But it was kinda hard to focus on the dragon when an executioner was supposed to be killing me."

"It doesn't matter to me who the Imperials try to execute. You got one task done by living through the infernal rage of a dragon. Unfortunately for you, you still have one other task to do. Farengar!"

On that last word, the black robed man who was just enjoying some gourmet meal sighed.

"You don't have to shout. I'm right here. And I'll continue to be here until I finish my meal." He said.

Travis narrowly dodged the spit particles as he said this.

The man beside the Jarl narrowed his eyes and mouthed something Travis couldn't understand.

Farengar took no notice of him. "Besides, I already sent out a promising-looking Dunmer to retrieve the Dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow."

The Jarl met Farengar's gaze. "And is he back yet? I believe you sent him two days ago. The journey to Riverwood takes up only a mere five hours walk. And you said that he said he had a horse. The journey would only be about an hour. He's probably dead."

Farengar pushed away his plate, having lost his appetite. "You know I hate wasting the lives of young warriors and mages. One day, I'll have to take it myself."

The Jarl turned his attention back to Travis. "Well I'm sorry, but you have to be executed. Guards! Take him to the Plains District and make an example."

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal, not a guard, but a young Dunmer who seemed out of breathe. After a second of panting, he strode forward with his head held high and his back straight.

Travis was a little preoccupied in getting away though. One of the guards noticed this and held the knife to his neck again.

Farengar gave Balgruuf a quick look of triumph before giving his attention to the Dark Elf.

Once the elf reached into the border of Farengar's personal space, he quietly murmured something. Farengar appeared not to hear it.

"Can you repeat that?" Farengar asked. Worry nibbled the edges of Farengar's self-confidence. The last time the Dunmer was here, he was more cheerful than this.

This time, the elf raised his voice just marginally louder. Farengar's fist was clenched tightly on his silver goblet.

"What do you mean it was ransacked?!" Farengar said in a voice that only touched the borderline of shouting.

The Dark Elf nervously cleared his throat. "All the Draugr there were dead. I found several dead bandits outside too. The Draugr in the room where you said that stone would be was dead too. It's likely bandits stole it." He said.

If people had a weapon which was powered by disappointment, Farengar's expression would have it bright and beaming.

Suddenly, his face bordered on a sceptical expression. "Did you stay in an inn?"

"Uh…Yes? A quaint inn located in Riverwood. Why is this important?"

Farengar gestured toward Travis. "If what he says about him coming from Helgen is true, then the first town he encountered would be Riverwood. Tell me prisoner, did you stay at the inn in Riverwood?"

Travis had a bad vibe coming toward him, so he decided to play it safe. "No. I stayed in a friend's house. I did go to the inn once though. Nice ale selection." The Dark Elf scrutinized Travis' face. The spark of recognition he had in his eye warned Travis that he was either very lucky or very unlucky.

The Dark Elf grinned. "I remember him. He was embarrassing the local blacksmith and drank so much ale, I thought he would burst. He's just a harmless fool."

While Travis started thinking up all the ways he could snap his neck for calling him a fool, the Jarl got a thoughtful gleam in his eye. "Prisoner, do you know if anybody left for Bleak Falls Barrow recently."

Travis knew where this was going. He sighed and admitted it between gritted teeth. "I did."

The Jarl looked pleased with his answer. Farengar and the Dunmer however seemed somewhat disappointed that the person they hoped would find the stone was not the person intended.

The Jarl gestured to a nearby guard. "Did you find a stone among his belongings?"

The guard, who was just staring out into space, stood at attention after a moment of confusion. "A stone? Oh yes, the gigantic fragment that we found on him is still in the dungeons."

The Jarl looked back at Travis. "Looks like you got a reprieve." He smirked at the last part.


	7. The Dragonborn Sucks

Travis rubbed his newly unbound hands. The guards were standing close by in case they were needed. The Jarl waved his hand in the universal dismissed manner. The guards at attention moved back to their posts.

Farengar stared at the lumpy stone analytically. He peered at every crack and etch, trying to decipher the meaning. Feeling the complete opposite of Farengar was the adventurer Dunmer. He excused himself to the table farthest away from Travis. Travis noticed the ill will in his eyes and grinned. He shouldered his rifle and stood up holding a roast goat's leg and a bottle of ale.

"And where do you think are you going?" The Dunmer asked, his eyes focused on the rifle and its owner.

Travis shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe I'll head over to Windhelm. Maybe I'll just join up with an acquaintance of mine. Doesn't matter." He emphasized the last sentence, keeping his grin plastered on his face. He knew people like the Dunmer back in the Wasteland. People like the Brotherhood of Steel and their Outcast counterparts. And he knew how to poke them where it hurts. Travis' grin faltered a bit as a bad memory flashed inside his mind. Shaking his head as if to shake off the thoughts, he headed for the door.

He reached out to push the door, and was met with a faceful of wood as another Dunmer who wouldn't particularly care if he was mauled rushed into the room.

"Farengar!" She rushed into the mage's room. "Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon was sighted nearby."

As expected, said mage looked up in surprise. "A dragon? How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

Travis hobbled in, clutching his nose. The adventurer Dunmer was right behind him with a half-smile on his face. Travis tapped Irileth on the shoulder. "Hey, do you mind telling me where the dragon is? Cuz I'm ready to smack the bitch up for nearly turning me into a kebab."

The last statement wiped the smile of the adventurer's face. "You encountered it before? How on earth can a fool like you possibly have survived it?" Travis didn't grace him with an answer. Instead, he replaced the standard bullets in his favoured rifle with armour-piercing ones. "C'mon, spit it out lady. It's not gonna stay there forever." Irileth muttered under her breath something Travis couldn't make out. Travis wisely chose not to pursue the spoken words.

"If you really want to die, it's over at the watchtower west of here. It would save us the time needed to kill and dispose your body that way." Travis tuned out and started running after the word 'here'. The Dunmer adventurer, not to be outmatched, started running with him.

As Travis was running, he felt the pressure on his stomach that always appears when he knew he was running into something he might not easily survive. The first time he felt it, he had recently left the vault.

The plethora of creatures that he saw didn't shake him up as much as the people who survived the hard way. He was headed into a building he knew was infested by humans even worse than the beasts of the wild.

It was hard for him to put down his first human being. As time grew on, it became easier and easier until it became a day-to-day routine. Eventually, he started doing it for sport. He turned into one of the nightmarish people that killed, mutilated, and tortured for fun.

The last time the feeling showed up in him was when he was rushing the Enclave at Project Purity. At that point, he was only worried about the blood washing over his well-maintained armour.

Travis bit down on his tongue and put his thoughts back to the present. He was going to kill a dragon. Maybe he should stay some distance away and start softening up his opponent with a sniper rifle's .308 rounds. Or maybe he should go as close as he could without alerting the beast, and start whaling on him with a shotgun. Of course, he could always just go and rush at him, guns blazing.

His thoughts wandered around various battle strategies like a disgruntled scientist as he sprinted down the Cloud District and passed through the Plains District. He shouldered his way through the main gate and charged between two half-awake guards with bewilderment in their faces as the criminal they just apprehended dashed away with Breezehome's owner hot on his heels.

Checking the sun to make sure he was going the right way, Travis ignored all the living beings in favour of the rapidly rising structure in his vision.

Travis slide charged behind a large rock and pulled out his sniper rifle. He instinctively crouched down and peeked around the corner. No dragon. Just a bunch of ruins and a scared looking guard. Travis held up his sniper rifle and looked through the scope. Still no dragon. He must have just missed them.

The sound of leather boots on the grass warned him that the Dunmer caught up to him. Ignoring the coming footsteps, Travis adjusted his angle. An elk running along the plains. A couple of plants, rustling in the wind. A hand on his shoulder and a dagger's pointy end just touching the small of his back. No dragon.

Struggling to avoid the temptation to sigh, Travis turned his head to confirm his suspicions. A blank grey face met his half-hearted gaze. The adventurer backed up a couple of inches for Travis to stand up. Nothing. Travis just stayed in his little hunched over position.

As a self-trained predator, he waited for the dragon to return. It was instinct. You kill the caravan guard and merchant, and then cripple the pack Brahmin. Any travellers that would stop by to try to loot the merchandise would get their heads filled with lead. Like a fly in a spider's web. Except this spider is armed to the teeth. But this time the bait was human and it was crippled with fear..

The guard continued to just cower near the entrance to one of the not-so ruined towers, occasionally stepping out and peeking at the sky. Idiot. No dragon in sight, but he still looks like he's ready to resurrect breakfast as a horrid, rotting, zombie.

A throat cleared. Silence. Mumbling curses, the hands behind Travis grabbed him and propped him up to standing position. The right hand took hold of Travis' shoulder and pulled him around to a face not many would like to see in a dark alley. "By the Eight! What do you think are you doing?" Travis shrugged off the shoulder and replied, "Hunting some lunch." The look on his face was priceless.

Conveniently, Irileth and a small company of guards arrived with the weaker ones panting a bit as they slowed. Right on cue, the roar of a dragon broke the tension in the air. Travis went back to commando mode and let out a shot. He was rewarded by an enraged, piercing shriek. The dragon went down with one less wing than it was comfortable with. Irileth and her band of cannon fodder charged into battle, while the Dunmer took out a bow and started using iron and wood against an ancient creature with extremely durable scales. The Dunmer looked at the side and saw empty space where Travis used to be. "Coward." He muttered and let out another arrow.

The arrow narrowly avoided Travis. He narrowed his eyes, "Kill me later! We have a gigantic reptile here." The Dunmer nocked another arrow, aimed it, let out an inaudible whisper about idiots out of their league, and fired. The dragon picked up a guard with its jaws and accidentally avoided the shot with the extremely dead corpse he was holding onto. Travis repressed the urge to slap the Dunmer senseless and instead focused his rage on the dragon. A stray lightning destruction spell hit the dragon in one of its hind legs which caused the dragon to turn its head to the caster who was conveniently behind Travis, causing Travis to do a Super-Sledge bitch slap. The Dunmer archer knew an opportunity when he saw one, and let one of his stronger arrows fly towards the dragon's exposed neck.

Travis took the opportunity as well, and swung his gigantic mace at the dragon's neck the same time the arrow left the bow. The Super-Sledge smashed through the wooden part of the stuck arrow, causing the arrow's tip to propel forward. Travis knew that the dragon knew it was dying. The dragon let out a desperate spray of fire to distance itself from Travis, Irileth, and two remaining guards. Unfortunately for the dragon, the heat produced melted the steel tip, causing it to flow down its throat. The dragon let out several roars of pain and agony. Travis was already starting to feel sorry for it. He walked up to the dragon, who expected to be revived when it died, and brought down one last thundering blow to the cranium.

* * *

Travis

And then weird shit started happening. The dragon's skin melted away and some aura stuff settled on Mr. Douchebag.

The two remaining guards ran up to the Dunmer and started excitedly exchanging words. Unfortunately, I didn't hear them as I was too busy looting the dragon. I saw a couple gemstones in the rib area. Managed to pick off some remaining scales. As a second thought, I broke off a couple of rib bones. I lost my last souvenir earlier.

When I finally started walking back to the male, annoying Dark Elf, I caught the word Dragonborn being passed around. When I was about to reach his side, he gave me an evil look.

I turned my ass around and started making for the hills. I heard a sharp intake of breath, then I heard him shout the word 'fus'. A second after he said that, I felt something propel me forward a little bit, just enough to cause me to trip on a random rock. And it's kinda hard to get back up if you're wearing some heavy Tesla Armour. It makes it harder too if you have a ton of heavy weapons and hundreds of rounds of their ammunition all strapped onto you.

After enduring a minute or two of Dunmer laughter, I managed to regain my balance.

And then he said 'fus' again.

* * *

The party trekked back to Whiterun, the only incident being a random goat wandering across their path. Travis vaporized it.

The moment they reached the wooden entrance they were assaulted by a noise so loud, Travis fumbled for his gun and automatically went into shit-your-pants mode. The adventurer stood stock still. The guards were nowhere to be seen. The Dunmer muttered something into Irileth's ear.

They recovered and entered. Travis headed for the inn 'to repair his armour'. But just about everyone knew he was just going to drink and flirt with the women. Everyone else went ahead to report their victory to the Jarl. The Dunmer stood a couple paces away from the Jarl, fidgeting with his dagger.

As the clickety-clackety sound of the remaining guards trailed off into the barracks, Vadril, the adventurer proceeded to talk about the fight.

The aged Jarl's eyes shone when he mentioned the glowing aura that surrounded him. "I have heard the Greybeards call for you. I did not believe it myself until you told me about it." He said.

"But why me? I am not one of your kinsmen. I am but a simple adventurer who works for the occasional bag of coins."

"Legends have no discrimination. You must prepare to meet the Greybeards for as long as you can."

Vadril left the Jarl, a million questions in his head. He went to Breezehome and had dreams about talking dragons that died when he touched them.

* * *

**I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. As much as possible, I'm trying to set a schedule for writing that would be considered regular. Also, I've been switching up my writing style with just about every chapter. That's the problem about new authors. If you can, tell me which one of my chapters has a decent enough style to use for the rest of the story. OC submissions are still available.**


End file.
